As I walked into the dorms of the Academy, I looked around and realized that for the second time in a week, I was walking through the doors of a new school. And it was so different from the warm campus of Duluth. At Duluth, even the wind had felt warm as I stepped onto campus for the first time. I remembered the crowds, everyone jostling for a free t-shirt (okay, I did it, too). I remembered it all—and in a way, longed for it.

Duluth hasn’t been my first pick for a university, but I thought it was lovely nonetheless. Orientation Day was a whirlwind. Shoved into lines, free keychains flying through the air, welcome packets pushed in my hands—something new everywhere I looked. And the people. All around me, small groups were forming. Students were finding “their people.”

I caught a glimpse of a mother hovering over her son, eventually reaching out and rubbing something on his face. The son pushed his mother away, embarrassed. I looked away. Best not to linger long. I purposely did not look back.

My advisor had set our meeting for early in the afternoon. Anna Gaddis was a middle-aged, plump woman with her hair tightly pulled back. She had a friendly smile on her face and when I shook her hand, she had a firm grip.

“So Aris, what do you want to do here?” Mrs. Gaddis asked, leaning back in her chair. Her pen tapped against her clipboard. Going straight for the throat, I see.

“Go to school?” I said. 

Mrs. Gaddis laughed. It was a full body laugh, the kind that spread to everyone around them. I felt my own smile grow in response.

“I certainly expect you to do so,” Mrs. Gaddis said. “But I was referring more to a major or a job choice.”

I shrugged, a bit self-consciously. I had no idea what I wanted to do.

“No plans at all?” Mrs. Gaddis asked.

I bit down on my lip. “I think I’d like to help people in some way.”

“A great goal,” Mrs. Gaddis said. She leaned forward, considering me. “You don’t have to figure it all out now. This is where you’ll learn who you truly are. Where you’ll carve out your own place in the world.” 

As I walked back to my apartment, I thought about Mrs. Gaddis’ words. About who I was. Who I wanted to be. Around me, more and more cracks appeared in the sidewalk. The houses became more and more decrepit, and fewer and fewer people appeared on the streets.

I’d rented a cheaper apartment off campus and I’d kept it simple. Just a desk and a bed, with a window view of a red brick wall. I guess it was obvious I’d chosen it for the price.

“Aris Gray?” a voice asked behind me. I turned around. It was a boy, a black mask across his face. His hood was up. I didn’t recognize him.

“Do I know you?” I asked—but it was just to be polite. I definitely did not know him. I took a quick glance around us. The streets were empty and quiet.

“Know that what I do, I do for the good of the world,” he said solemnly.

“What?” I said. 

The boy pulled a long, wrapped, cylindrical object from his back. From the center, he grabbed something, and I watched as the boy pulled a freaking sword from the linen wraps.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I moved back a pace. The boy followed—and then the sword was swinging down at me. I stumbled back, barely out of the way, and again the sword came flying toward me.

I threw myself back, hitting the ground. But not quickly enough. Blood pooled on a cut across my cheek, dripping down to my neck. Holy crap, I was actually being attacked with a sword.

The boy’s sword shifted and came down again. I rolled to the right, just as the sword cut into the spot I had just been. My hands were scrapped and bloody, but I still scrambled back into an alleyway, away from the boy.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. He said nothing. I looked around for something, anything—there. A broken bottle in the alleyway. I picked it up and pointed it at him. He regarded me with a look of utter disdain—and I knew he didn’t find me much of a threat.

He charged towards me. His sword sliced down and the bottle broke into pieces in my hands. We circled each other—every step I took, he took another.

I wondered if I should yell for help, but in this neighborhood, who would listen?

There was a trash bag by the dumpster. A spark. I rushed for the bag, the boy on my heels. I picked it up and threw it at the boy.

The boy raised his sword to cut through the bag—and I saw my chance. I charged towards him and while he was focused on the trash bag, slammed my body into his. He hit the wall as trash rained down around us.

I took the opportunity and ran for the street. He couldn’t catch up now. I glanced back—

And he was gone. I stumbled to a stop, eyes wide. Somehow, someway, the boy was in front of me. It wasn’t possible. Yet, there he was.

“Enough of this,” the boy said.

He moved like he was gliding through the air. Inhuman. I dodged, but too slowly. The sword cut across my shoulder, pinning my dress to the wall behind me. My shoulder was barely scratched, not nearly as badly as it could have been. He’d pinned me in place—purposely.

I thrashed, eyes wide, chest heaving. The boy held up one hand—and suddenly, everything in the alley lifted into the air. Cigarette butts, leftover food—the entire dumpster and its contents spun around us. As if we were at the center of a trash tornado.

“Come to me, Orion,” the boy called out. The wind blew off his hood, revealing silver, almost white hair.

If I had thought the garbage tornado and the dude with the sword were weird, I could never have guessed what would happen next.

From the winds of the tornado around us, a shape started to take form. A figure strode out from the wind, about the same height as the boy. He looked almost human, but for the emerald green glow around him. He was similar to the boy, with the same silver hair and green eyes, and was robed with a long Greek linen shirt with metal armor plates on the shoulders. A scuffed and worn bronze breastplate covered his chest and stomach. On his legs, shin guards covered his legs and thighs. On his head, he wore a bronze helmet with a tall crest of green feathers. He carried a shield in one hand and an iron-tipped spear in the other. Across his back was strapped a short sword. This being was Orion. 

Orion faced me. He pointed his spear in my direction.

“Orion,” the boy commanded. “Kill her.”